HOW I CAUGHT MY FIRST SALMON. 189 



quickly unreeled ; and after balancing myself with 

 great difficulty in my canoe, I gave my line a wild 

 swing, and made my first overture to the unsuspecting 

 salmon of the CausapscaL 



The scientific fisherman may perhaps by this time 

 have begun to suspect that the writer of this sketch 

 is no born Izaak Walton, and will perhaps be ill-natured 

 enough to sympathise with the maledictions invoked 

 on my head by my companion, when the heavy plash 

 of my enormous and brilliantly-coloured fly on the 

 water scared away more than once from his hook an 

 epicurean salmon on the point of yielding to the 

 allurements of a "Jock Scot." For myself, I must 

 own that I commenced to blame the vaulting ambition 

 that had led me to aspire from a float, worm, and a 

 perch, to a reel, fly, and a salmon ; and after thrashing 

 the unpropitious stream for the best part of an hour, 

 I laid down my rod, rubbed my aching arms, and dived 

 for my cigar-case. But I had to do with an enthusiast. 

 The clamour raised by my comrade at such un- 

 sportsmanlike conduct, his awful threat of publishing 

 to his female belongings this instance of English 

 weakness, roused me to a final effort of despair, and 

 with a mighty heave I succeeded in landing my fly in 

 a promising ripple. The fates were at length propi- 

 tious. A slight twitch, which was not caused by the 

 current, thrilled through my arm, and a congratulating 

 shout from S. announced that I had hooked my first 

 fish. Xow was the time for me to show that an 



